


A Dream Deferred

by Sam_Nook



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 100wordsprompts, Angst, Character Study, Cold War Mentions, Fluff and Angst, Historical Hetalia, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, History, Loss, M/M, PruAme, Ship Study, WWII mentions, War, prompt was loss, revolutionary war mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Nook/pseuds/Sam_Nook
Summary: There was no room for love in someone who did not know how to give it.
Relationships: America/Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	A Dream Deferred

**Author's Note:**

> Random prompt sixteen: loss.
> 
> The title was inspired by a poem titled the same by Langston Hughes.

**I.**

It had been innocent in the beginning, innocent and untouched. Being so observant, Gilbert had noticed it quickly. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out anyways, not with Alfred sneaking glances and blushing at Gilbert's proud smile. Gilbert hadn't paid it any mind, Alfred was a child, and they had a lot to accomplish if they wanted to stand a chance against an empire. 

Gilbert thought it would go away with time. It didn't. 

Still, Gilbert didn't do anything about it. The boy would quickly learn that being a nation, especially in a time like this meant it was dangerous to be human, to feel human. He wondered if he was making it worse. 

Gilbert almost missed the disappointment in his eyes as he left Alfred in Francis's care. 

There was no room for love in war.

**II.**

The fire was dying, covering the messy room with shadows. It hid them well, at least from eyesight. Gilbert sighed and closed his eyes, hugging the sobbing teen to his chest. It was all he could do. 

There was pain in every war won. There was no escape for their kind. Every won came with a loss, and every smile came with silent crying in a dark room. 

Gilbert wondered why they were given the ability to feel. It seemed a cruel punishment for not being able to die. He wondered if they deserved it; Alfred didn't. He was just a child, still small and trembling in his arms, trying to stop the sobs from croaking out. 

There was no room for love in sadness.

**III.**

  
With America's creation and Alfred's reclassification and an independent personification came the experiment. It was different, but Gilbert figured that's why he was called the New World. 

"Democracy," he whispered; it sounded foreign. 

Nonetheless, he signed the treaty and acknowledged the existence of a new country. Gilbert wondered if he had taught Alfred enough to survive on his own.

There was no room for love in making history. 

  
**IV.**

Alfred had grown a few inches the next time they met. His shoulders were broader and seemed to carry a new weight. It wouldn't be long before that weight grew too heavy, Gilbert mused. 

"Never thought you would be the type for velvet and silk, America." Alfred jerked, and Gilbert didn't resist a sharp grin. "France steal you away to be his fashion guinea pig?"

Bashfully, and with cheeks burning, Alfred nodded. "He said the blue and gold looked 'exquis' on me. He said you'd agree."

Ah, Francis was indeed a sly fox. Alfred had seemingly picked up on Alfred's pining. Alfred was more than just Francis's little fashion project. 

"Well, he certainly made you into one of us." Gilbert patted Alfred's shoulder and led him back towards the ballroom. "I suppose we ought to play that part and drink his wine." 

There was no room for love in European politics. 

**V.**

Gilbert much preferred beer over wine, but in Paris, he didn't exactly have a choice. At least, his choice was to drink wine or listen to Francis whine, and a happier Francis was easier to deal with at the end of the day. 

"Little America," Francis flashed him a teasing smile, "is pining after you. Have you noticed that?"

Gilbert stared at the bittersweet wine, stirring it with one finger as Francis waited impatiently for an answer. "He is a boy; that happens when boys grow." He denied carefully. 

"He does not wish to be looked at as a child, Prussia. He has beaten England; that should be enough to gain more even footing," Francis smirked, "especially in your case." 

"We both know that it will not work out. Politics and history will eventually change his mind. There is no need to encourage him any further."

"You're no fun. Let him experience love before he grows up. Besides, it would weaken England's morale even more ." 

There was no room for love in their existence. 

**VI.**

"The view is great, don't you think?" 

Gilbert stared down from the window at the street below them. It was taller than most of the buildings around them, and in the distance, he could see the Hudson River. In his centuries of life, he had never been in a taller building, but somehow it seemed he was touching the sky. 

It seemed that America had run out of directions to claim except the sky above them.

"Let me tell you, steel is one hell of a thing. Carnegie's company is building up America and is even taking over England's steel industry. Bet Arthur isn't too happy about that." Alfred turned away from the window and continued. "The world is changing, Gilbert. Technology is only going to get better, and it's going to do a lot of good. I'm going to do a lot of good. So what do you think?"

They were equal, if not imbalanced now. Alfred had filled into his muscled frame, and he stood with a proud stance that mirrored Gilbert's. Gilbert was no longer dealing with a child, at least in Alfred's case. Alfred hadn't been a child in a long time, especially with his arms bandaged and his cheek bruised. 

Alfred had his own pieces on the chessboard, and he was winning the game. 

There was no room for love in this game. 

**VII.**

Even with the shift, Gilbert wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't that he didn't know how to love; he loved his little brother, after all, but Alfred was entirely different. It felt wrong, unusual, but he didn't know why. 

Perhaps Gilbert did not know how to give that kind of love.

Naturally, he went to someone who did. "Look, Francis, if you think this is right. I'll do something about it. How are you even sure? It's been a century, pretty sure the kid has moved on."

Gilbert did not like the laugh that followed. "You are as blind as England, Gilbert, if you don't see how much he likes you. Spoil him for once; he has proven to you, has he not? Let him be loved."

Gilbert sighed and drank more beer. He'd give it another century. 

There was no room for love in someone who did not know how to give it. 

**VIII.**

"This decision is stupid. This wasn't exactly your fault." 

"It is someone's, and if it were between Ludwig and me, I'd rather it be mine." Gilbert stared out at the window, silent and exhausted. War was not unusual, it never was for their kind, but it had never been like this. 

"You're just going to let them? Gilbert, you shouldn't just accept it!" Alfred stood from the creaking rocking chair. "I'll fight it for you. It's all of your faults. Europe is full of secret alliances and feuds, and I should've taken action during the first war!"

"Sit down," Gilbert snapped, "Europe needs a scapegoat. In war, there is always a loser; that is the first thing I taught you."

"You taught me never to be a loser." 

Gilbert sighed, and Alfred sobbed. Once again, he held the trembling nation to his chest and closed his eyes. With every war, there was loss. That was the balance of things. 

Gilbert was scared. He didn't want to die, not with all he had. He had Ludwig, and he had Alfred. He wondered why he had never taken the chance to love him when he could. Perhaps that was the biggest regret of his life. 

He had too many regrets.

There was no room for love in death.

**XI.**

He hadn't died, at least that was what Russia had told him. Gilbert wasn't sure if that was better. Perhaps after accepting all that loss, death would have been kinder. 

It was dark; he was alone; he wished he hadn't been able to survive.  
  
There was no room for love in immortality.

**X.**

It surprised Gilbert how much thirty or so years could change someone who lived a thousand. Gilbert supposed that he didn't really live in the last thirty years, not when everything seemed to be dark.

It was cold and loud, and Gilbert felt nothing more than a lost soul in a crowd of others who were more lost than him. A loud crash started a cheer, and Gilbert didn't bother looking as the crowd surged forward. 

Gilbert didn't bother to look until a warm hand clasped his. 

"Guess you learned that you're not a loser too." 

Gilbert sobbed.

There was room for love in change.


End file.
